


Murder Your Darlings

by beautyqueenforbes



Category: The Originals (TV), The Vampire Diaries & Related Fandoms, The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Romance, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-16
Updated: 2018-03-16
Packaged: 2019-03-31 22:33:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13984701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beautyqueenforbes/pseuds/beautyqueenforbes
Summary: Klaus is a merciless, cold man. However, he becomes enamored by Caroline Forbes, a girl with one foot in the grave. When her heart stops, he saves her life, but condemns her to the same terrible fate as he. Guilt-ridden, Klaus decides to teach Caroline the skills she'll need to survive, give her the cancer-free life she never had, and maybe save her soul in the process, too.





	1. The Deaths We Die

He had become bored of challenges. After one thousand years, Klaus preferred merely to take what he wanted quickly and without too much trouble. Hospitals served as playgrounds for the hybrid, where he exercised his bloodlust on the weak. His brother, noble Elijah, chastised his cruel habits. But he was no better. It was in Klaus's nature to destroy, maim, and kill. He was the hybrid; he could not love. He could not feel, forgive, or sympathize. He refused to stop. He refused to be redeemed.

He had never intended to care.

* * *

She was too far gone. Barring the limits of her parent's budget, Liz and Bill had done everything in their power to get her the treatment she needed to survive. Chemotherapy was far too expensive. They would have had to sacrifice hot water, electricity, and other basic luxuries to afford it, and Caroline couldn't have lived with herself if they had. Not for her. Not for their selfish, ungrateful daughter, whom they loved far more than she deserved.

Caroline was going to die in four months. There was nothing more they could do for her.

She had had plans for senior year, big plans. She had signed up to be head of every committee, planned on campaigning for prom queen (and winning), and had duties as reigning Miss Mystic Falls. It was supposed to be her best year yet, and within a single day, a single fleeting moment, it had become a nightmare.

The day before the school year was set to start, Caroline woke to a building pressure in her chest and head, feeling more exhausted than she had before going to bed the prior night. Coming downstairs to make herself breakfast, it only worsened.

Liz had already left for work, leaving Caroline alone. When the meager spoonfuls of cereal she had swallowed down came back up, and blotches of black danced across her field of vision, she slipped into her car and drove herself to the hospital.

* * *

_She hadn't enjoyed a full night's sleep in almost a month, not since being inducted into the hospital. In her ward after dark, time oozed by lazily. Everyone who passed by, she bore witness to during those sleepless nights._

_When he came, that night, the girl in the room next to hers bled out from the neck. The following night, the boy adjacent to her met the same fate. The next five nights, more patients died the same way, and each evening, he disappeared down the hall. The staff didn't seem concerned that their patients were being picked off one by one, but she feared she was next._

_Three nights and thee patients later, she woke from a brief and blissful respite to find him waiting for her, her case file splayed open over his palms. When she stirred, he glanced up, and a smile stretched across his lips._

_"Hello, Caroline."_

_Her breath hitched, almost imperceptibly. "Are you here to do to me what you did to the others?" She looked him in the eye, refusing to show the fear blossoming in the pit of her stomach. Caroline Forbes didn't want to die, not here, and certainly not now._

_It may have been just a trick of the dark, but for one fleeting moment, she thought she had seen a flicker of astonishment in his eyes. Just as quickly as it had appeared, however, it was replaced by a dangerous smile. He closed in on her, slowly. She stopped breathing as his fingers wound in the curls just above her ear. He tilted her head back, bringing their faces so closely together that their breath mixed in the small space between them. Her eyes shifted from the stubble that, in the close proximity, she could see on his chin, to his lips, then finally, to his eyes—a mistake. She was held there, watching his pupils dilate._

_"Why are you here?" He murmured, barely above a breath._

_"Cancer." She didn't want to tell him this, but her mouth moved, not of her own volition. She didn't want him to know anything about her._

_"Do you have much longer to live?"_

_"No."_

_His fingers tightened in her hair. "Why aren't you being treated?"_

_He wasn't supposed to know that. He wasn't supposed to know her name, or anything else about her._

_"My parents can't afford it."_

_His gaze flickered elsewhere, releasing her from his hold._

_"What's your name?" She whispered._

_He only smiled._

_She felt his lips on her neck before she saw him move. He smelled like aftershave, and something strong and unfamiliar._

_Caroline swallowed, strengthening her resolve. "Why haven't you killed me yet?"_

_His lips parted against the supple flesh of her throat. His warm breath ghosted over her collarbone. In her peripheral vision, she saw his fist tighten around the rail of her hospital bed._

_Black tinged the edges of her vision, and then it consumed her world._

_When she woke, he was gone._

* * *

_He returned the following night. "Klaus," He said, looming over her bed. "My name is Klaus."_

_She had woken from a brief and rare slumber, after a long grueling day. Her head lolled to the side, and gently, she probed her neck, remembering his lips on her throat. She found no marks, and no pain._

_"Klaus." She tested his name on her tongue. "Why didn't you kill me?"_

_He smiled, drumming his slender fingers on the bedside table._

_"Perhaps I prefer you alive."_

* * *

_Every night after that, Klaus visited her. Sometimes, he would bring her food, which she was at first wary of, but then grew to appreciate. Other nights, he brought her books—favorites of his, he said—to read._

_All the while her condition was worsening._

_"I could heal you, you know," He told her one night._

_"Why?" She smiled weakly. "I'm going to survive."_

* * *

_Most nights, they talked about her—her hopes, her dreams, her aspirations. He steered the conversation away from himself. She knew he had five siblings; she didn't know two of them were dead, one of which was his fault. She didn't know the other three despised him. There really wasn't anything more she needed to know, nor anything more he wanted her to know._

_Steadily, she had grown more comfortable in his presence. One night, when he came for her, though, she seemed distant and exhausted. After only a few minutes, she stopped speaking. Her eyes moved to the ceiling and stayed there, her breaths too quick, and her skin too pale._

* * *

When the heart monitor flat lined, he didn't think. He just acted.

The incessant buzzing filled his ears as he pressed the torn flesh of his wrist to her lips, his free hand grasping at the curve of her neck. He hadn't remembered biting into his wrist, nor did he remember killing the nurse lying in a pool of her own blood on the floor. All he knew was the limp body of the girl in his arms.

Still barely conscious though, Caroline wanted to scream. It was as if her throat had been stuffed with cotton. Air didn't rise from her lungs, and all sound was absorbed by the wispy substance. He was finally going to do it; he was going to kill her. At seventeen, she was going to drift off into the sunset, and no one would remember the tragic girl who died too young.


	2. From Diamonds to Dust

Heaven smelled a lot like her shampoo.

Or, rather, her hair, which was unceremoniously slung over her face, smelled like her shampoo. Caroline Forbes woke dumped in a four-poster canopy bed, engulfed in sheets and with a wicked pain in her neck. Snippets of memory floated in and out of her consciousness. Nurses. Hospital. Sick. Cancer. Klaus.

Klaus.

Oh, god. Klaus had done something to her. She didn't recall exactly what, or why she was suddenly afraid of this man whose wicked smile stuck in her thoughts. But she was certain that it was he who had brought her here, and she wasn't waiting to confirm her suspicions. All Caroline knew was that she had to get away.

The bedroom was comprised of an enormous room adjoined with three other doors, one of which she had to assume to be a hallway. Another opened on to a balcony overlooking what looked to be some sort of miniature lake. The carpets were plush, and her feet sunk down a few inches into them when she slung her legs over the side of the bed.

The double doors that opened out to the balcony were unlocked.

Swinging the doors open with an unprecedented ease, the night air wrapped around Caroline like a blanket, or maybe like a hug from an old friend. It felt as though it'd been centuries since she'd breathed in fresh air. Being outside again took a pressure she hadn't known was there off of her chest.

But she was on a mission.

From up high, the jump from the balcony looked awfully far, but Caroline was positive that if she angled her body just right, she could get away with only a few bumps and bruises. She slipped her shoes off, sliding one foot in between the rails and bringing the other up to rest on the balcony's ledge. Slowly, she eased her other foot beside the first, and she was staring down at a particularly thorny-looking rose bush.

"You won't make it, you know."

Caroline turned her head, just a fraction of an inch, to see him standing in the doorway.

She lost her balance.

Her toes curled around the ledge, and she wobbled there for a few moments before regaining her stance. A cool breeze blew her hair into her face, and her nerves strained into a knot in her stomach.

"You're wrong," She retorted.

"Am I?" His footsteps drew closer, and she inched forward, now balanced even more precariously on the edge. "You're going to jump, and when you do, you'll break a few bones. Bruise a few ribs, maybe snap a wrist—or your neck. Either way, you're going to black out, and when you wake, you'll be right back where you started."

Somewhere, deep in dark crevices of her mind, she knew he was right.

She didn't care. She jumped.

The wind whistled in her ears, her hair whipping in all sorts of different directions. Caroline angled her hip towards the ground, like she had read in a book once. The impact sent a blossoming pain that started in her shoulder and worked its way down surging through her body. Her hip began to throb like a second heartbeat, and she groaned. Just before her eyes fell shut and the pain claimed her, though, she saw him, leaning over the edge of the balcony with his mouth open. Somewhere, she thought she heard someone yelling her name.

Caroline hated to have to admit it to herself, but he had been right.

And this time, the doors leading to the balcony were locked.

Not that she was particularly inclined to do it again. The pain had been excruciating enough to turn her off from anymore balcony jumps for a while; although, mysteriously enough, she had woke feeling as good as new. Though, she did smell vaguely like grass and dirt, and a stray leaf was knotted in an impenetrable snag in her hair.

So, to draw her mind from her current predicament, and looming fears that without the medicine, cancer would claim her in her sleep tonight, she decided to get a shower. The bathroom didn't have any windows, but much like the bedroom, it was enormous. Besides basic amenities, there was a bathtub big enough that, if you laid down, you couldn't see over the sides. A few shelves boasted a few dozen body lotions, face creams, and other scrubs and moisturizers, many of which she'd had in her own bathroom at home, eerily enough. The shower was one of those fancy, multi-jet showers enclosed by a glass panel that looked out on the rest of the bathroom.

It took Caroline a few tries to figure out how to get the hot water on, but when she did, the feeling was enough to make her worries melt away for just a little bit. She took her time, not wanting to face reality. She could've stayed in there forever, shampooing and scrubbing for as long as it took to forget that she was in a strange place, with a strange man, not sure if tomorrow would be her last day or her next breath would be her last. But, eventually, the water ran cold, and she stepped out, wrapping a fluffy white towel around her torso that was as soft as the comforter in the bedroom.

Klaus was waiting for her when she stepped out.


	3. A New Nightmare

She took his breath away.

What a cliché that was, used and abused by modern and classic epic romances alike, but it was the only term suitable to define the constriction in his chest, the lack of words that had been just about to spill forth.

Caroline glowed, her skin a delectable pinkish shade, her damp curls framing her face with blonde snags. She was impeccable, more delicate and awe-inspiring than any queen or princess whose company he enjoyed the pleasure of. All that marred that vision she presented was the easily torn swath of fabric that veiled her torso and hips from view. How he longed to watch it fall away.

Oh, he had plans for her. He was a covetous creature, and from the moment he laid eyes upon her, Klaus had imagined adding her to his expansive collection of precious baubles. She was more entrancing than any painting or statue he had come across, and given the choice, he would select her over the finest diamonds any day based on sheer beauty alone. He would deify her, and place her upon a pedestal of gold, reveling in the wave-like undulation of her golden hair and the unflawed canvas of her body.

He imagined marking it with his teeth and tongue.

"Is there something I can help you with?" She snapped. No doubt she was embittered by her current predicament. There was no escape, and deep down, she surely understood that.

And just like that, his ire returned. Escape had been a futile endeavor, and it was a mistake he would ensure she did not repeat.

"You and I are due for a little chat."

She took on an offensive posture, her stance rigid and her arms folding. One foot tapping, she answered, "I was thinking the same thing."

His eyebrow quirked and he couldn't find it in him to be anything other than amused at her indisposition to cooperate. "Oh?"

"Yeah," She spat, brazenly closing a few inches between them. "I do. You need to let me go, right now. I don't know what sick game it is you're playing, or for what messed-up reason you think that it's okay to pluck me out of the hospital and dump me god-knows-where." Her expression softened just slightly, and she added, quieter now, "I need my family. I need the medications."

He was not swayed in the least. Perhaps, in some small crevice of his heart, he pitied her need for the loving embrace of a mother and father. But she would learn to abandon that in time.

"Interesting proposition, love, but no."

She pushed him then, hard, rallying all her force behind her balled fists. And, surprisingly enough, he was jostled. He stumbled back a few feet, obviously flustered by her sudden outburst.

Straightening, he resumed his position, liberating himself of a few inches that separated them. Their chests pressed together, the texture of the terry cloth of her towel a mere tickle on the exposed skin peeking out from the unbuttoned collar of his henley.

"I wouldn't do that again, if I were you."

Were it anybody else, anybody but his new toy, they would be dead.

Before she could interject with a new argument, he launched into his diatribe. "I didn't come to be shoved around, Caroline," He said, his tone dangerous and acidic. "I came to discuss your little stunt earlier."

She took a step back so that she could fold her arms across her chest. "Well," She sneered. "I think it speaks volumes that I'd rather jump off a balcony than be anywhere remotely  _near_ you."

He chuckled, not quite sure whether he admired her for her bravery or pitied her for her stupidity. Either way, it did not change his next words.

His comparatively light—if you could call it that—demeanor faded, and became dangerous within an instant. "Where you have received me with hostility, I expect gratitude. That being said, I will keep this concise. I expect this sort of incident never to crop up again. And if you comply, all will be forgiven in time. Otherwise…"

A sinking feeling blossomed in Caroline's stomach. Perhaps it was his use of 'never' and 'in time', or maybe it was the look in his eyes earlier, like she was some sort of new toy of his that he was just dying to get his hands on, but she found herself unsettled, to say the least. She'd been denying it in her mind, refusing to acknowledge that a man she really didn't know had scooped her up out of the hospital and dumped her god-knows-where to do god-knows-what to her. Now, it hit her full force how bleak the situation truly was.

Because no one in their right mind carts a strange, dying girl off without some twisted reasoning behind it.

"Stay away from me," She whispered.

That smile returned again, as if he had not just threatened her. As if he weren't a lunatic who visited hospitals after hours and stole their patients away in the night. As if she weren't standing there, radiating how much she despised him.

Klaus assessed her towel-bearing form once more, with appreciation. "You'll be joining us for dinner. And as little as I mind your current dress, I suggest you seek out something more appropriate."

* * *

Her wardrobe, a towering thing of intricately carved oak with a side door that housed a mirror and seven drawers, was offensively paltry in stock. It wasn't that there wasn't an abundance of clothes to choose from, but rather, there was an abundance of skimpy, lacy things—lingerie and short skirts and the like—that simply wouldn't cut it for Caroline. And thus, she ended up traipsing down the massive spiral staircase, chauffeured by a servant with downcast eyes, wearing the most unrevealing item she had found in the entire selection: a lovely white lace dress with a high hem that offered a sheer panel that stretched across her shoulders as way of coverage. Nonetheless, it shielded her somewhat, and with that, she would have to make do.

Klaus was waiting for her at the bottom of the staircase.

His eyes were trained elsewhere, in a room that she couldn't see, but when he heard her footsteps, he glanced up. And for a moment, he looked utterly dumbstruck. His mouth fell open, and it seemed as though he was utterly, inexplicably focused upon her.

Then, he recovered.

He offered her his arm, and as graciously as she could, she took it. She refused to meet his eyes.

"Am I meeting someone?" She asked, noting his more formal attire. He wore slacks, and a white dress shirt, neatly tucked in.

"My siblings," He responded. "My sister, Rebekah, and my brothers, Elijah and Kol."

"Isn't it a little early to be introducing me to your family?" Caroline deadpanned.

He laughed as though she had truly meant it to be funny, and then he led her into an adjoining room.

Three pairs of eyes met hers, and Caroline instantly felt smaller, as she always did when she knew she was being judged. The blonde, striking enough to be intimidating and presumably Rebekah, spoke first.

"My, my," She cooed. "Is this the stray you've dragged in?"

Her smile was icy and her eyes were cold. After giving Caroline an appropriately dehumanizing once-over, her piercing stare shifted to Klaus.

Seemingly unaffected, he replied, "I was taking a page out of your book, dear sister."

"Attempt to be civilized, please," said another one of Klaus' siblings, dressed in an impeccably-fitted suit and with his focus directed elsewhere. He'd seemed to lose interest almost immediately, for which Caroline was grateful. Although she didn't have an inkling of an idea of anything about him, it made her like him a little. The last thing she needed was to be stared at like a microbe under a microscope.

The third and final member of the group, another male who was dressed far more casually in jeans and a T-shirt, was far less intimidating than the other two. This brother offered a toothy grin and a little wave. "My," He mused, his eyes never leaving Caroline. "I can say far more for your taste than our sister's."

"Shut up, you wanker," Rebekah snapped. "At least I keep my lovers satisfied."

"You mean, until you get bored and kill them off?"

Klaus lifted a long-stemmed wine glass from the table, tapping a spoon against the rim. The noise seemed far more overpowering than it should have, sending a shock of pain through Caroline's forehead. Instinctively, she covered her ears. She didn't understand why it seemed like someone had turned the volume up on, well, everything. But she was certain that it had to do something with Klaus and what he had done to her.

"Enough you two," Klaus reprimanded his siblings. He pulled one of Caroline's hands away from her ears and smiled apologetically, before turning back to the table before them. He dragged out a seat adjacent to the head of the table for her. Admittedly a tad afraid to refuse, especially over something so trivial, Caroline obliged.

"Caroline, this is my brother, Elijah." He gestured to the suit-adorning male seated to her left, and he finally looked up at her, gently taking her hand in his and kissing the top of it.

"Pleasure," He murmured, and as soon as he had released her hand, he seemed unfocused again, his attention wandering elsewhere.

Klaus then directed her attention to the other male at the table, presumably Kol. "And this, Caroline, is my other brother, Kol."

He sat across from her, and to his right sat Rebekah. He stood, and Caroline took that as her cue to do accordingly, and he did as Elijah had and kissed the top of her hand. "Lovely to meet you, darling," He offered before sitting back down. Unlike Elijah, his eyes did not leave her.

Finally, Klaus motioned to Rebekah. Unlike Kol and Elijah, who had dark eyes and dark hair and resembled Klaus little, Rebekah shared his light eyes, light hair, and full lips. "As you may have guessed, this is my sister, Rebekah."

Rebekah didn't stand, or offer her hand to shake, or even so much as smile. She did not say a word, but instead, she stared at Caroline like she was an insect, or perhaps something to eat. Caroline did her damndest not to seem intimidated, meeting her gaze evenly.

After what seemed like an eternity of this, Klaus sat down at the head of the table, and Rebekah looked away. Caroline felt a tad of triumph at the thought that she hadn't backed down, and resisted the urge to smile, just a little. Instead, she turned her focus to Klaus as well.

He tapped the spoon against his empty wine glass again, and this time, Caroline just balled her fists at her sides and ignored the shooting pain in her temples. Five servants appeared from behind doors she hadn't noticed before, cleverly painted to seem as though they were a part of the walls. Each servant carried a pitcher of wine, and in unison, they stepped forth to fill all of the dinner guest's glasses. When they had filled all of them with a perfect, to-the-brim pour, all four of the other occupants of the room lifted their glasses to their lips. Caroline did the same.

She choked on the taste. A couple times before, her parents had let her have a taste of wine. But this most definitely did not taste like her parent's wine, or any kind of wine at all, for that matter. Instead of having the slightly bitter tang that was inherent to wine, it tasted coppery and metallic, and if she was being truthful, sort of luscious. No, they certainly weren't drinking wine.

They were drinking blood.


	4. My Soul to Keep

It wasn't the taste that set her stomach in motion, not in the slightest. The mere idea that she had just consumed blood made Caroline's throat constrict, and she could have sworn the room was moving. Extremely aware of being the focal point of attention, she stood, weakly asking, "Where's a bathroom?"

"Third door on the right," Elijah answered disinterestedly. Absently, Caroline wondered what his problem was. Kol and Rebekah seemed more than eager to stare her down, probably mentally critiquing her every move. But Elijah seemed like he was in another world entirely.

"Thanks," She responded, and before Klaus could make the move to follow her, she was out in the hall and on a mission to hold the bile rising in her throat long enough to get to a trash can, or sink, or anywhere that wasn't the floor.

Caroline didn't even spare a moment to look around the bathroom after she crashed through the door, heading straight for the toilet. She collapsed to her knees. The moment she had secured her hair to keep it out of the way, all of the contents of her stomach came back up. And when there was nothing left for her to vomit, she sat there, dry heaving for what seemed like an eternity before finally catching her breath.

With wobbly knees, Caroline forced herself to her feet, and she flushed the evidence of nausea down the drain with her eyes closed. She knew if she looked, she would be down on her knees again. Instead, she turned to the sink and splashed cold water on her face. The soap she used to wash her hands smelled cloyingly sweet. It made her sick all over again, but she forced herself to push the feeling down and dry off her hands. She gravitated straight towards the towel embroidered with the initials  _K.M._ , assuming it to belong to Klaus. It made her feel a little empowered to be wiping her hands off on his towel, and really, what kind of pretentious asshole got his initials sewed into his towel? But then she remembered that there was a chance his naked body had been wrapped in that towel, and Caroline made herself step back out into the hall before thoughts of hand soap, blood, and a nude Klaus overwhelmed her.

Caroline had almost been expecting for Klaus to be waiting for her in the hall, but when she found that he was nowhere to be seen, she felt a mix of relief, and something else. Something that felt a lot like disappointment. But it had to be the stress talking. She wasn't disappointed at all, she told herself. She was glad to have a moment alone. She knew it wouldn't last for long, though, and dread filled her as she started back towards the dining room from which she came. And then she stopped in her tracks, because she had an idea.

There had to be a way out somewhere.

She couldn't find any windows, and she had no idea how many floors the mansion had and which one she might be on. But Caroline figured that if she just kept moving forward, she would find it eventually.

The prospect of escape instantly lightened her mood, and she didn't feel quite so sick anymore. She was on the move, walking fast, and listening carefully for approaching footsteps. It stood to reason that any minute now Klaus would wonder what was taking her so long and come to check on her. So Caroline had to put as much distance between him and her as possible.

Each corridor seemed longer than the last, and where windows should've been, hung paintings. All signed with the same signature. She tried to keep track of which ones she had already seen, hoping she wasn't going in circles, but the more she saw, the harder it was to remember.

And then, finally, she found a staircase. And somewhere at the bottom, Caroline could swear she saw light. Not artificial light, or candlelight, but real, honest-to-god natural light. Every nerve screamed at her to run; she was so desperate to get out. But the last thing she needed was to be caught, and she was disciplined enough to tiptoe down the stairs.

It would be dark soon. It wouldn't be her ideal escape, but it would have to do. She could've cried when she opened the door, and smelled fresh air for the first time in what felt like ages. She could hear grasshoppers chirping, cicadas buzzing, and birds singing. After closing the door behind her as carefully and quietly as she could, Caroline started to run.

The perimeter wasn't secured very well, from what she could tell. There was a low fence, which she scaled easily thanks to the framework that almost seemed meant to accommodate climbing. There was an expanse of woods, and Caroline was positive that somewhere, somehow she would find a road. Although her mother wouldn't approve, from there she could hitchhike back home and leave these awful, deranged people behind as a bad memory.

The wind was in her hair, and Caroline wanted to sing with the birds, because she would be as free as them soon enough. She took her shoes off without stopping. She was sure she had never run so fast in her life, and it was incredibly liberating.

The sky was rapidly darkening, but she didn't allow it to discourage her. Caroline could swear she could see better, and hear better, too. It was amazing what adrenaline could do for you. It had been months since she had felt so alive, so strong, so powerful.

Hell, she could even smell better. She reveled in the smell of the pine trees, and uncut grass, and even the blood.

No, no, that wasn't right. Against her better judgment, she stopped. Why did she smell blood? It had to be an animal. Nature was cruel; it happened all the time. Maybe a bird had fallen from the nest and hurt its wing. Or a fox had caught a rabbit, and she was just nearby. It was merely a coincidence, and she wouldn't allow it to deter her.

She started running again.

But the smell of blood got stronger, suffocating her. She imagined it on her lips, sliding down her throat, inside of her and invigorating her. She wanted it.

God, she was just going to make herself sick again.

Caroline didn't know how she knew, but it was behind her, which didn't explain why it became stronger and stronger the farther she ran. But she had to keep going, no matter what.

And then, finally, she found the road. It smelled like gasoline and greasy fries, and she never imagined how happy she would be about that. It meant civilization. Which meant people, who had cell phones and maybe there would be somebody who wouldn't mind giving her a ride home.

She was so close, and the happiness swelled in her chest, and he pushed it out when he hit her.

They fell to the ground, and he had his hand clapped over her mouth before she could scream. Caroline bit down as hard as she could, but to no avail. Her captor didn't budge.

She had tasted freedom for a second, and now she was going to be a girl in a creek in the woods who might make it on Dateline if she was lucky. She thought of Klaus, and how maybe she should have tried bargaining with him instead of hatching up an impulsive and stupid escape plan. Girls died in the woods all the time. And maybe he would find her body, and someone would mourn her, even if it was only because their new toy was broken.

The person's other hand went to her throat, squeezing just a little, and Caroline waited to feel the burning in her lungs that meant her airway was constricted.

It never came.

"Do I have to compel you not to scream, or are you going to come quietly?"

Oh, god. It was Klaus. Caroline panicked, and she became hyperaware of the way his leg was slung over her hip, and his groin was pressing into her back, and how his stubble tickled the nape of her neck. Somewhere, she heard a giggle, and it dawned on her that her subconscious was delusional enough to find their precarious position kind of funny.

If he had heard, he didn't let on. He rolled her on to her stomach and she heard the crunching of leaves as he stood. She turned to face him. It was dark, but his eyes glowed nonetheless, a rich shade of gold that should've terrified her. Fresh blood rolled down his chin, and his dress shirt was spotted with little crimson blotches. He bent down, grabbing her by the waist, and then she was roughly hoisted so that he had her over his shoulder. Klaus supported her with a hand on her lower back that kept her from falling. He started walking back in the direction from which she ran, and despite her dread, she knew that her screams would fall on deaf ears. So she held on tightly, gripping hard when she tried to think of anything else but how she wanted to lick the blood from his lips, and that maybe it wouldn't be so bad if his hand came down a little lower.

It was a long walk back to the mansion, and Caroline was a tad proud of herself for coming so far without getting caught. She ignored the sneaking suspicion that maybe it wasn't so much that she had managed to evade him on her own, and more that he let her think she had a chance. They walked most of the way in silence, but even in the quiet, Caroline could feel his fury as if there were an entirely other person walking with them.

"I can walk," She informed him in a soft, cautious voice, afraid that she might provoke him a little too much and this time, when he grabbed her throat, he wouldn't let go.

"I'm sure you can," He bit out. It was obvious by his tone that he was not compromising on this. If someone were to appear at that very moment and inform him that if he didn't put her down, the world would cease to exist, he would probably just keep walking.

After a while, there were no more trees, and no leaves underneath his feet for Klaus to crunch on. They were on a well-manicured lawn, and finally, he set her down and took her by the arm instead. His grip was crushing, and his nails were sharp, but she could see his eyes better now. It hadn't been just a trick of the light, as she had tried to convince herself. They glowed, molten gold against otherwise blackened eyes. There wasn't an inkling of white to be seen. Black veins branched out from around his eyes, and when his tongue darted out to wet his lips, Caroline could swear there were fangs. He looked like a monster, but instead of being startled, she felt the urge to touch him. She wanted to feel how sharp his teeth were; she wanted to know if the veins around his eyes were bumpy or smooth. She looked away before she did something she would truly regret, and instead focused on the outside of the mansion. She hadn't seen it before, but it breathtaking. It was well-cared for, with not a chip of its off-white paint out of place, and she was certain with the grandeur of it that there had to be at least four floors. There were actual columns that supported that roof as a sort of awning over a wrap-around porch, and she heard water burbling off to the side—a fountain. Well-trimmed hedges lined the walls, and marble steps led up to a set of magnificent beveled double doors crafted from a dark wood with golden knobs and gleaming golden knockers in the shape of an M.

She didn't have long to admire it, though, because the moment Klaus had the doors opened, he shoved her inside. Caroline would've lost her balance, but then he was holding her so roughly by the arm that she thought she might cry. As he dragged her up the stairs behind him, she caught sight of Kol, gazing on at her with pity in his eyes. She didn't want his pity.

She stumbled along after Klaus up another set of stairs, and then another, and finally, another. She was correct in her assumption that there were four floors, unless, of course, there was an attic or a basement. Caroline had only remembered taking one long staircase down to the ground, but she suspected it wasn't the time to strike up a chat about floor plans.

They came to his bedroom, and he practically threw her inside. He locked the door behind him, and then they were truly alone, and Caroline felt fear sink in.

"On the bed," He commanded, and she did as she was told. Was he going to force himself on her? She had to think quickly; she had to think of a way out. There was nothing in reach that she could use as a weapon. And she had a feeling that it would take more than bludgeoning him with a pillow to put Klaus down.

"Give me one good reason not to rip your heart out right now."

Rip her heart out? Was that even possible?

"What are you?" It was at the forefront of her mind, and she could contain in no longer. "You drink blood, and you made me drink it, too." He started to interrupt, but she kept going. "You have the face of a monster." Although he no longer gazed at her with golden eyes encircled with veins, he looked as though it would revert to that state at any minute. He stiffened at the word monster, and he clenched his fists at his sides. "And you think you can rip my heart out."

"You're right, Caroline. You've convinced me. Congratulations, sweetheart."

Whatever he was thinking, Caroline was sure she wouldn't like it.

"I  _can't_ rip your heart out. Not until I see you suffer for your continued disobedience. So, tell me, Caroline, how would you like to see how monstrous I can really be? How should I punish you?"

"I don't—"

He wasn't looking at her face anymore. He had his eyes trained on her neck. And his face began to change.

"Do you know what a werewolf bite does to a vampire like yourself, sweetheart?"

"I—vampires don't exist. Werewolves don't exist. I'm not a vampire."

"What do you think I am, then? How do you think you woke up after your heart stopped? What about when your neck snapped? Just like this?" He put his hands on either side of her neck, and gently, he titled her head to the side, making a clicking sound with his tongue. "Think, Caroline. What did your bedtime stories call creatures who drank the blood of others, and who never died?"

"Vampires aren't real," She whispered hoarsely. "I hit my head. I was knocked out. And now I'm okay."

"And does your head hurt?"

"No."

"Good."

His eyes shifted back to her neck, and he ran his tongue over his lips. He moved almost imperceptibly at first, but then she was on her back, and he had her pinned down with his weight. His fangs bared, Klaus started to lunge for her neck. He imagined flesh tearing, reveling in her screams. But instead, he paused, so close he could practically smell the blood rushing beneath her skin. It was an incredible sight. Caroline's neck was arched, her chest heaving as she anticipated impact. Klaus slipped his fingers into her hair, angling her head back for even better access, but instead of mutilating and abusing as he had intended, he pressed his lips to her pulse point and gently broke the skin. She whimpered, although the pain was merely a pinprick and not the violent attack she had imagined it would be. Caroline felt his tongue on the open wound; she could feel his lips moving. It wasn't a brutal punishment. In fact, she started to enjoy it. It made her feel deliriously happy. She felt good, and Klaus felt good. His hands felt good where they rested on her hip and shoulder, strong and warm. His legs straddling her waist felt  _really_ good. And she felt incredibly close to him, and couldn't recall why she hadn't liked him.

Klaus pulled away from her, the taste of her blood lingering on his tongue. It had been the most delectable blood he had ever had the pleasure to drink, and he wanted more. He wanted to know if she tasted just as good elsewhere. He eyed her flimsy dress; how easily he could destroy it. It was pretty, certainly, but it was in his way. Klaus started towards the hem, but took pause when he felt a hand on his cheek. He looked to Caroline again, and at her neck, where a wound in the shape of his mouth gaped. He looked back to Caroline. Her thumb caressed the veins around his eyes, and she found them to be a little bumpy. And then, feeling bold, she moved her hand to his lips, and he parted them as her finger skimmed along his lower lip. It was daring, reckless, and perhaps a little stupid, but she slipped a finger past his lips, just to see how sharp his fangs were. She nicked the pad of her finger on the sharp tip, and before she could remove it, he was holding her wrist in place, sucking until the wound closed up. When he was done, her hand fell to her side, and she watched as his eyes faded to blue and the skin around them appeared as though there had never been any kind of anomaly. With contact broken, Klaus remembered his ire.

He held his wrist to her lips, and she gazed up at him through her lashes innocently and questioningly.

"Drink," He ordered.

"You want me to bite you?"

"I want you to break the skin and drink the blood, Caroline."

"I don't…I don't want to. No."

"Then, I can force my blood down your throat."

She grabbed his wrist as hard as she could, and pushed it away with as much force as she could muster.

"You're testing my patience, Caroline. Either you drink or I'll  _make_ you drink. And I assure you, it will not be pleasant."

She pushed herself to a sitting position, and eyed him carefully. She would comply, for now. But she would do it her way.

Before he could comprehend her actions, she had her hands on his shoulders, and was biting down hard, into his neck.

" _No_ ," He growled. This had not been the plan. He didn't allow anyone to drink from his neck, especially not petulant baby vampires. He would give her a second to acquit himself, and then he would force her away and instill some respect in her. He was the most powerful creature roaming the earth, and even if she didn't know it now, she would be wise to recognize that he was not to be toyed with.

But then her tongue was on his skin, and her chest was pressed to his. God, it felt so  _good_. She sucked hard, not sparing him any tenderness as he had done for her. He answered by pulling her closer, roughly, by the hips. She was taking far more than her fair share.

She thought about how much blood was in his body, about how there wouldn't be enough to sate her. It wasn't because it tasted good, though, she told herself. Klaus was doing something to her. It was his fault. He was making her believe in things that weren't there. And there was no way that Caroline Forbes was actually enjoying this. Nope, not at all.

"Enough." She couldn't actually do any real damage to him, but Klaus was becoming dizzy from blood loss. " _Enough_ , Caroline."

And despite how much she wanted to drink him dry, and how much she wanted more of whatever it was she had been drinking because there was no way blood could ever taste that good, not in Caroline's world, she conceded. When she had pulled away, and was gazing at him with those big blue eyes and sneaking little tastes of the blood still on her lips, he couldn't resist. He kissed her, and he could taste their blood mixing between their mouths.

His lips were strong, and warm. She moved with him, touching the stubble on his face, and then feeling his short curls. It wasn't long, though, before she remembered that she was kissing a monster, and she pushed him away.

Klaus looked angry, and rejected. He stood, pulling his shirt off over his head, and for the second time, Caroline feared that he would force himself upon her. He stalked over to the wardrobe, rummaged through one of the drawers, and then tossed her a dark grey henley.

"Put it on," He said.

She started towards the bathroom, but he stopped her.

"Put it on here. In front of me."

"You must be joking."

"You can either put it on now, and sleep in that, or you can remove your clothes in the bathroom, and sleep in nothing." He went back to the wardrobe, found a pair of slouchy pajama pants, and began to remove his own.

Caroline turned around. She didn't want to watch him get undressed. There was no part of her that was interested, whatsoever. Nope, not Caroline. She refused to let him think that he could make her a malleable mass of lovesick goo over his accent and stupid, totally not cute dimples. Besides, if she angled it right, with her back to him, he would see nothing.

She shimmied out of the dress, tossing it aside, and then unclasped her bra, and added it to the pile. She was just about to pull the henley on over her head, when she felt hands on her back.

"Please don't," She pleaded.

"I won't hurt you. Not if I don't have to."

How romantic of him, Caroline thought dryly.

"I can't put it on with your hands in the way." She was surprised to feel his touch gone, and as quickly as she possibly could, she tugged it on over her head. She didn't want to think about his hands. Nor did she care to imagine how messy her hair probably was and the fact that he was trying to convince her that they were both vampires now. And she definitely tried to avoid the idea that she was likely wearing one of his shirts.

But as soon as the shirt was on, he was leading her towards the bed.

Panic swelled in Caroline's chest, and she wasn't sure if air was making it into her lungs anymore. The room swam, and she wasn't sure if she was standing still or if she was swimming with it. This was it. She wasn't ready for this. Everything else must have been foreplay for him, because she was sure that his leading her to his bed meant one thing and one thing only. He was a sadistic monster, making her wear his shirts and drink his blood. It had all led up to this, and then he was going to do what he did to the other patients at the hospital and she really would end up in a creek somewhere in the woods. The worst part of it all, though, was that panic had paralyzed her, and in the moment it was most critical for her to fight, she froze up.

"Caroline."

She saw his hands cup her face, but she didn't feel them. And she could see his lips moving, and she understood that she knew the words, but she couldn't correlate any meaning to them.

"Caroline. Caroline, tell me what you need."

Burning. They were back in the forest, and he was really strangling her this time. And it hurt, god, it hurt so badly. She couldn't find her hands, but if she could just grab him, maybe she could stop him. Her lungs burned. Her throat burned, especially.

"Caroline. You're safe."

Safe?  _I'm not safe_. That's what she would've said, but she couldn't find her tongue, either. If she could find her hands, maybe she could find her tongue, too. How could she be safe, when he was killing her?

"Hold your breath, Caroline. Just for a few seconds, and then it will be over. Okay?"

She wanted to laugh. How could she hold her breath, when he was depriving her of it already? She took comfort in the fact that he would kill her soon. It would be over, that's what he said. If she could just find her damn tongue, she could ask him to make sure her parents knew she loved them. It was so cliché of her to want those to be her parting words, but she couldn't bear to think that they would never know how grateful she was to have a mother and father, as imperfect as they were, who loved her.

Then something changed. She wasn't in the forest, but in a large bedroom, and Klaus' hands weren't around her neck, but in her hair. And his lips were on hers.

Caroline took a step back. She was okay, and she could breathe. They were sitting on the bed, and she could swear she saw fear in his eyes.

But that had to be wrong. He was just worried his toy was breaking.

"Why did you…?"

"You're safe. You wouldn't hold your breath on your own, so I did it for you."

Caroline just nodded.

"Caroline, why were you upset?"

Caroline looked away. He was still a monster. He still made her drink blood and was crazy enough to think he was actually a vampire. His fangs, and his glowing eyes, meant nothing. It was all some elaborate trick. He had probably drugged her, and it was making her think crazy things. Hell, maybe he had never said any of those things at all, and she was just hallucinating. Maybe she wasn't even really here, and Klaus and his siblings were just figments of her imagination because she was lonely. She started to get dizzy again, and she knew she had to stop. The fog in her mind would clear in the morning, and then she could determine for herself what was real and what wasn't.

"Caroline, tell me what set you off."

"The bed," She practically whispered. "You started leading me towards the bed, and I thought…I thought…"

"You're safe. I'm here."

She shook her head, and crawled across the bed to get under the covers. She didn't care whose bed she was sleeping in; she was exhausted. She needed this nightmare of a day to be over.

He got up and turned the lights off, and when he returned, she didn't make the slightest of movements. But he could hear the way her breaths trembled, and he knew she was awake. Nonetheless, he crawled in beside her, and pulled her to rest her head against his chest. He ran his fingers through her hair, soothingly. Caroline hoped he would fall asleep and she could find a way out of his arms without his noticing. But she wasn't stupid, and could feel his gaze on the top of her head. And to be honest, she hadn't been hugged in so long. He was warm, and surprisingly comfortable to lie against. She had imagined him as hard lines and unforgiving planes, but his skin was soft and his touch was gentle. It couldn't hurt for one night. She thought of asking him if he had punished her sufficiently yet for her disobedience, acid in her tone, but she knew it would only serve to make him angry. She would have her answer tomorrow, and she was tired of fighting. She needed to rest. And so Caroline fell into a dreamless sleep in Klaus' arms.


End file.
